Love Potions
by Firenzie
Summary: Unoriginal title, I know. Here's a twist, though: it's not about love potions. But there is love, and there are potions too. For a big project, Snape pairs Draco and Hermione together, intending to create conflict. It does happen, but not in the way he ex
1. Snape's Project

Love Potions  
Part 1: Snape's Project  
By Firenzie  
  
Summary: When Snape pairs Draco and Hermione together for the biggest project of the year, they know there's bound to be creative differences. But what happens when they see past it and start to develop feelings they'd never even dream about having for each other?  
  
A/N: Despite the title (it's meant to mislead you), this fic isn't really about love potions. Love, yes. Potion, sure. But this is a fic about the mean ways of Professor Snape, and also a D/H romance, since it's suddenly my favorite now. I just lack the creative mind to think up a realistic way to get Draco and Hermione together, so forgive me if they seem out of character when they finally get together. Of course, that isn't until part 2. This part is just about their 'little' project.  
  
Disclaimer: I. Hate. These. Annoying. Stupid. Things. (OMG, I'm talking like Stevie from 'Malcolm in the Middle!')  
  
***  
  
"Is anyone besides me horribly dreading this huge, mysterious Potions project that counts for sixty-percent of our grade that Snape keeps talking about?" Ron asked, furiously tearing through all his notes, trying to find the ingredients to make a Hair-Loss Potion.  
  
Hermione sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes. "For the billionth time in five minutes, Ron, *yes.*"  
  
"You're just peeved because you're upset that you don't know what this project is, so that you can study for it in advance," he retorted.  
  
By the stressed expression on Hermione's face as she sifted through book after book, Ron was right. "Well, honestly!" she burst out. "If he's going to talk about it so much and how bloody important it is, don't you think it's only logical to tell us what it's about?"  
  
"You know Snape," Harry said, scribbling down the answer to the last question for his homework, and then tossing his quill across the table and slumping back in his chair, exhausted. "He can't be logical. He can't be fair. He can't be nice. Unless, of course, it's to those slimy Slytherins--"  
  
"Oh, having a chat about us, are you?"  
  
The three friends groaned. Malfoy.  
  
"What do you want?" Harry spat out.  
  
He had a look of superiority and contempt, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles behind him. "You're sitting at our table," he informed them.  
  
"This is a library," Hermione said exasperatedly, "you can't own a table."  
  
"And if anyone can, it would be Hermione," Ron added, since Hermione had practically lived in the library since they first came to Hogwarts. "Anyway, I don't see your stupid name written on here anywhere."  
  
"Well, my 'stupid name' has more money and things left for me to inherit than you'll ever have. Even if your family did have any money -- which you obviously don't -- you have too many other brothers for things to be passed down to. Little Ron would just be forgotten."  
  
Malfoy struck a nerve. Ron *hated* being overshadowed by five older brothers. He hated not even being anything special, like Head Boy, or Quidditch Champion, or prefect, or prankster, or even simply the only girl in the family, like Ginny. And he absolutely hated being poor. So he couldn't restrain himself. He leaped from his chair, over the table, and then landed by Malfoy. He was just about to give him a well-deserved punch in the nose, when Madam Pince came hurrying over, looking furious.  
  
"And what, may I ask, are you doing?" she asked stiffly. "Loud noises and commotion are certainly not allowed in this place of studying! Especially not physical fights!" She looked around at them, and her eyes landed on Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger! A prefect! I expected far more from you, yet you sit back and allow this to happen! Five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin! And if this continues, I will ask you all to leave the library with detentions!" Fuming, she walked away, muttering things to herself, like, "Really, now, fighting in a library... I should have just given them those detentions straight off..."  
  
Hermione did not look ashamed from what Madam Pince said. She thought it was awfully unfair. How was she supposed to be responsible for preventing a fight between them and Malfoy? That was an impossible task! "Let's go," she said finally to Ron and Harry. "Let these immature idiots have their special table."  
  
They hastily gathered on their things, and as they were on their way out, Harry called back over his shoulder, "And it's not much to brag about if the only things you'll be inheriting are Dark Arts items and old possessions of Voldemort!"  
  
Many people quietly studying cringed at the name, and Malfoy's pale face went a shade of crimson. He muttered some swear words underneath his breath, and then he, Crabbe, and Goyle sat down at the table Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just been occupying a minute ago.  
  
"If only Malfoy knew that we knew about his father's secret storage underneath their drawing room," Ron said, his face still flushed with anger from Malfoy's remarks. He clenched his fists.  
  
"Well, he can't," Hermione said firmly, "otherwise he'd know that we--" But she let the sentence trail off, not wanting to mention it in case anyone was around to hear.  
  
Unluckily, there was someone. "And what did you do, Miss Granger?" a voice asked greasily. "Something that broke dozens of school rules, as usual?"  
  
The three of them looked up. As they had suspected by the bitterness in his voice, it was Professor Snape. But they didn't say anything.  
  
"You better watch what you do, Potter. I've been onto you since Day 1." He spotted the Potions books piled in their arms. "Ah, studying for Thursday, are you? You'll need it. I'm already ready to give you all failing marks..." His eyes glittered maliciously, and then he turned on his heel and walked away, his long, black robes swishing behind him.  
  
Ron called Snape a very bad name underneath his breath. "I've been onto you since day 1," he said in a mocking voice, as soon as Snape was out of earshot, and they resumed their walking to the Gryffindor common room. "What I wouldn't give to show that Snape and Malfoy..."  
  
"We know, Ron," Hermione said. "We're dying to do something about it also. But what can we do without getting in trouble? And you saw Madam Pince. I'm a prefect, they expect more of me..." She crossed her arms. "We'll just have to be satisfied with the memory of knocking Snape out in the Shrieking Shack in our third year, and in our fourth, watching as Moody bounced Malfoy the ferret up and down."  
  
Those thoughts made Harry and Ron grin, and instantly start talking about those incidents. "Five feet in the air," Ron said, laughing. "Priceless..."  
  
They reached the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady was wearing a frilly violet dress, different than her usual pink. "Nice dress," Hermione commented, and to their surprise, the portrait swung forward. She looked at the Fat Lady. "That's the new password?"  
  
She nodded, unable to keep a large smile off her face.  
  
"What's the occasion?" Harry asked, but a bunch of first years were crowded behind them, waiting to get into the common room, so they had to go inside.  
  
"Interesting day we're having, isn't it?" Ron commented. "Oh, I can't wait until Thursday..." he said sarcastically, and then they dragged themselves up to their dormitories.  
  
***  
  
As the Gryffindors and Slytherins waited outside Snape's dungeon on Thursday, their hearts full of dread, no one could stop talking about the unknown project. It had seemed that Snape hadn't even told his own House -- his obvious favorites.  
  
The door suddenly burst open, thick, pale greenish smoke issuing heavily from the room.  
  
"Please tell me there's been a fire," Neville begged, "and we can't have Potions today."  
  
But they weren't that lucky. The smoke was most likely all a part of Snape's plan to try and leave them more confused and terrified of the day's class. A few of the Slytherins cautiously entered the classroom, coughing and their eyes stinging from the smoke.  
  
"I can't see a foot in front of me!" Malfoy announced to the Slytherin girls still standing outside the doorway apprehensively.  
  
"I'll show you a foot in front of you," Ron grumbled, as they held their arms out to try and see if they could feel any desks or anything.  
  
"Ouch, Ron, that's my eye!" Hermione's voice shrieked.  
  
"That wasn't me," Ron called from another direction.  
  
"Oops, sorry," came Neville's apologetic voice, and then there was a loud racket as he lost his footing and crashed headlong into a table, knocked three chairs over, and bottles of ink inside his bag smashed.  
  
"This is ridiculous!" Hermione said, racking her brain for a spell that would clear all the smoke away. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and cried out, "Smoke desvanecerse!"  
  
(A/N: 'Desvanecerse' is Spanish for 'vanish' [oooh dang, that rhymed]. I've been using Spanish a lot lately because I'm learning to speak it, and I've got a dictionary lying around that would otherwise be collecting dust, so why not?)  
  
Instantly, the green smoke faded away, at the same time someone yelled, "Ow!" Hermione's wand had whacked Seamus in the head as she vigorously waved it. She said sorry, and then suddenly, everyone hushed.  
  
Snape was standing at the front of the classroom, looking more vindictive than ever. "I'm glad you all made it in," he said and then changed his mind. "Okay, I won't go that far." His eyes flickered to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then to Neville, who was bent down on the ground, stuffing textbooks and sheets of parchment into his bag. "Today, you will hear all about this project you have been dying to learn about."  
  
Everyone stared at his anxiously, but Snape was obviously enjoying keeping them all in suspense.  
  
"First, we will divide into pairs." There was talk of, 'I'll be your partner,' from many of them, but Snape went on talking and they were silenced. "I have already taken the liberty of choosing those pairs." Everyone wanted badly to groan, but he was giving them a venomous look. He picked up a sheet of parchment off his desk and read off it.  
  
"Longbottom, Bulstrode." Neville looked frightened as he cast a look at Millicent, whose looks that rivaled the ugliness of a hag.  
  
"McDougal, Thomas. Brown, Nott. Zabini, Finnigan. Avery, Patil. Weasley, Goyle." Ron scowled at these words, cursing having to be placed with undoubtedly the dumbest student in the year.  
  
"Granger, Malfoy. And finally, Potter, Parkinson, and Crabbe will be working together," Snape finished off, letting the parchment spring into a roll and fall back onto his desk. "Now I want you to sit at a table with your partner or partners," he said, giving Harry a look that showed he was clearly enjoying having him the only person with two Slytherin partners.  
  
Hermione scooted her chair the farthest away from Malfoy as she could. She knew that Snape was practically begging for conflict by pairing them up Gryffindor-Slytherin. Almost everyone was too angry to even want to listen to Snape -- but that happened every Potions class, so it was nothing new.  
  
Snape began to explain their assignment. "In a few minutes, we will be going into the library to do some research. You will all check out an advanced potions book of your choice, and search for one of the most difficult potions you can find. Present this potion to me, and I will decide whether or not it is complex enough. And if it isn't, I'll be happy to choose one for you."  
  
Just what the class needed. Being told to pick out the hardest potion they could find. But that didn't seem like too much of a big task. They knew there was a lot more to their project, and visions of what Snape might make them do made them shudder.  
  
"Once you have your potion, we will go out and get the ingredients -- collecting them by hand, if possible. I find that to be the best way." Their eyes widened. Would Snape really make them slaughter a boomslang to get its skin? How on earth were they going to get a bicorn horn from the wild?  
  
"You will brew this potion, and I expect it to take months if you have really gotten a potion of the level I expect. While you wait for the potion to be ready, I've made sure that you're kept busy with a 4-roll-parchment essay about the history of your potion, how it works, side effects, possible deaths that have occurred from it... And then as the final feat, you will take your completed potion and have your partner drink it. And whatever happens, happens. If you made your potion correctly, you will get a passing grade. And if you haven't..." He looked directly at Neville, "you will fail, and your partner may face mortal peril. Any questions?"  
  
Everyone was too scared to even raise his or her hand. It sounded like the most complicated thing they had ever heard, and the consequences were great. No one wanted to fail. To be honest, no one wanted to even attempt it.  
  
"Well then," Snape said airily, in a voice that sounded too sinisterly cheerful, "let's go off to the library, shall we?"  
  
The class slung their bags over their shoulders and walked out the door, glad to escape the daunting atmosphere of the dungeon. They were silent all the way to the library.  
  
"Go ahead, sit at your special table," Harry whispered to Malfoy in an antagonistic tone, as they entered the library, to which Madam Pince shot them a warning glare, but then she went to talk to Snape.  
  
"I take it, Severus, that you intend to allow all of these students..." He stared at her, and her voice faltered. "All right then."  
  
A few students were already picking out potions books from the shelves. Snape noticed this, cleared his voice, and announced, "Did I forget to mention? We will be picking our books out of the Restricted Section."  
  
That left a dead silence in the air. All of the students had never been allowed into the Restricted Section. But that didn't mean that one hadn't gone anyway... Harry remembered in his first year, after he received his Invisibility Cloak for Christmas, when he had snuck down to the library. He had pulled a thick, black volume out and opened it, only for the book to start screaming. Even when he closed it, the bloodcurdling shrieks didn't cease. Since then, Harry had had no intention of going back into the Restricted Section.  
  
"Y -- you can't be serious!" Seamus said, staring at Snape in disbelief. But the twisted smile on Snape's face showed that he was. He beckoned to all the students to follow him past the red velvet rope and into the area no one had ever really wanted to see, even if they had been curious.  
  
They were silent as they pulled out random books, holding it like it would put a curse on them, and then stared mortified at some of the grotesque illustrations they contained.  
  
Madam Pince caught Hermione leafing through 'Moste Potente Potions,' and said loftily, "I see you've reunited with that book once again, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione froze, knowing that Snape was eyeing her suspiciously. Ron just told her, "Ignore Madam Pince. She's still mad about that fight three days ago." Hermione nodded and tucked the large book beneath her arm, walking over to Harry just to get out of Snape's vision.  
  
An hour later, everyone had picked out their potion (or, to their dismay, had been assigned one by Snape), had it approved by him, then they checked out their books, and left the library. He dismissed them all, and everyone ran away from him as quickly as possible, wanting to think of anything in the world rather than their impossible project. 


	2. Communication Breakthrough

Love Potions  
Part 2: Communication Breakthrough  
By Firenzie  
  
A/N: It's huge proof that I'm an Internet-aholic when my computer breaks down for two days and I start to get a mental and emotional breakdown. Okay, it's not that bad. And it's not neccessarily the computer I missed as much as the writing. But during this time, I had a huge burst of inspiration, and I finished this part. I meant to post it on Monday, but that's when my computer got screwed. I had been worrying to death that all my files had been lost, but it's all good now. So here's the fic (finally!).  
  
P.S. My spellcheck was screwed up, so please overlook any spelling errors and other mess ups.  
  
Disclaimer: Why bother?  
  
***  
  
"I can't believe he's making us do this," Hermione moaned, burying her head in her hands. She was too upset to even touch her dinner, and it had nothing to do with House-Elves this time. "This is one assignment even I don't want to do."  
  
"Well, believe it," Ron said, not seeming as perturbed as Harry or Hermione. In fact, he looked quite content, eating his meatloaf calmly.  
  
"You're just happy because you got the Polyjuice Potion," Harry said enviously, and then a lightbulb flashed over his head. "But you better worry that you've got Goyle as a partner, and he'll be testing his potion on you."  
  
That drained the color from Ron's face, and he was considerably less smug afterwards.  
  
In the days that followed, everyone, including the Slytherins now, hated going to Potions even more than they ever had before. They had never, ever seen Snape as gleeful as he was, and they didn't like it. And not a single person liked their partner or the difficulty of the potion they would be making, and the only thing that kept their spirits up was the fact that they would be able to test their potion on their partner.  
  
It turned out that Snape had been lying about getting their ingredients first hand. He merely said he enjoyed the expressions on their faces when he had. "Just a little Potions Master humor there," he said, with a horrible smile on his face. No one, not even the Slytherins, not even the teacher's pets, were laughing.  
  
Instead, they had to give him a copy of the potion they were making and the ingredients -- which he wanted copied down by hand, just to give them more work. Much class time was wasted that way. The busier students were, the less they had time to talk and to dawdle, was Snape's philosophy.  
  
Which was just fine with them, since they didn't wish to carry on conversations with their partners anyway. It was bad enough that they were working together already. No, even when they began to make their potions, they talked to each other the minimum amount they could. The only words you'd hear were, "Please pass the lacewings," or remarks such as, "This is so stupid;" the only thing partners could really agree upon.  
  
Even then, Draco and Hermione refused to talk. They had hated each other for too long and too much to suddenly become friends just because Snape had paired them together, just because he wanted to see them suffer. They agreed upon the fact that the assignment was insanely difficult, but that wasn't enough to make friends of.  
  
One day, Malfoy "pulled a Neville," as the Slytherins had dubbed any act of clumsiness, and tipped his cauldron over. Its acids burned a small hole in the floor and left a purplish stain that not even magic or Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover could get rid of. Though it was useless, Snape forced Draco -- and to her fury, even Hermione, though it was of no fault of her own -- to clean it up. It was long after everyone -- including Snape, had left, and he said they couldn't leave until it disappeared.  
  
Draco scrubbed the floor vigorously until his arm ached. "Snape is an asshole," he muttered to himself, resting for a while.  
  
Hermione dipped her rag into the bucket and wrung out the excess water. "So even you Slytherins hate him? You especially. I thought you were his favorite student."  
  
He scowled. "He can be all right sometimes. And this is the class I'm best at. But I still hate him. Look, he's got me trying to clean this unremovable stain the Muggle way! This is Filch's job, not mine."  
  
"Well, it is your fault," Hermione said harshly. "And Snape took advantage of this opportunity to drag me into it also. How was I supposed to know that you would sweep your scraps off the table with your arm and hit your cauldron? I'm always blamed for things I have no power over."  
  
"That's the price of being a perfect student."  
  
Hermione couldn't detect any sarcasm or remorse in that voice. It sounded very unlike Draco Malfoy. Like he genuinely meant it. After pondering over this for sometime, scrubbing absentmindedly, she asked, "What do you mean, a perfect student?"  
  
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "Do you even have to ask?"  
  
"I want to know what you mean," she said firmly, "because yes, I truly don't know."  
  
"Well, that's a surprise. For once, Hermione Granger doesn't know the answer."  
  
"Are you mocking me?" she asked indignantly.  
  
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It was just a simple comment. You're just a total know-it-all--" Her eyes flashed angrily, but he finished his sentence hastily. "It's not a bad thing. I'm not trying to pick a fight, I swear. Isn't that new?"  
  
She stared at him in disbelief. "Do you mean we should have a truce?"  
  
Draco looked away from her. "Oh, I don't know. Everything will just be more difficult if we fight -- not that it won't happen, of course, but we shouldn't go around egging it on. That's all I'm saying."  
  
"Look, I've hated you beyond belief. But if we're forced into this situation, so be it. I just want to get a good grade and not have anything come in the way of that. So -- so we can still be enemies -- face it, nothing is going to change that -- but...but..." she trailed off, thinking of the right words.  
  
"We'll agree not to act like rivals," he finished for her, "just for now. It's only temporary, of course. And though I want to say it should only be that way in Snape's class, if we do get into an argument in the hallways or something, that'll affect our attitude towards each other when we're working, so... We'll have to be civil towards each other *all the time*, until this stupid project is over. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed," Hermione said. She stuck out her hand, but Draco just stared at it.  
  
"Granger, just because we've gotten a truce doesn't mean we have to be all prim and proper and nice about it," he said, incensed. "Just act like nothing's changed. Don't want to get Potty -- I mean, Potter and Weasley all suspicious."  
  
"Yes, so tell your goo-- er, Crabbe and Goyle to lay off my friends, too. I'll tell them the same."  
  
"All right then," he said.  
  
The two of them looked up at each other briefly, but it was extremely awkward, so they quickly looked back down at their work.  
  
"Well, that's only one problem solved," Draco commented. "You're the genius, Granger, now how do we get rid of this stupid stain?"  
  
***  
  
The next day, they had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. He had learned to tone down his lessons somewhat, since the disaster with the Blast-Ended Skrewts in their 4th year. Today he had a cuddly little creature called a mistmaker. (I borrowed it from 'The Secret of Platform 13,' by Eva Ibbotson, because I don't happen to own 'Fantastic Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them.') It looked like a little baby harp seal, with fluffy, snow white fur. It sang beautiful music, filling the air with mist, hence its name. The girls all squealed delightedly, and even the boys had to admit that it was cute. But, surprising even themselves, the fact that it had no sort of attack of dangerous things about it was kind of boring.  
  
"Can I hold it?" Lavender asked Hagrid eagerly.  
  
"Well, all righ' then," he agreed, putting the mistmaker into her arms, "but be gentle with it."  
  
A crowd of girls formed around Lavender, who giggled delightedly when the mistmaker licked her on the nose after she stroked its fur. Parvati begged to hold it, and so the mistmaker was passed on and on, so everyone had a chance to hold it. Dean remarked that it felt like a huge shapeless ball of fluff, and Hermione was dying to hold it, so he gave it to her.  
  
To everyone's surprise, Malfoy asked if he could see what it was like -- and even more strangely, Hermione said yes. The bundle of fur was passed onto Malfoy, and a bright smile lit up his face. The mistmaker seemed to like him just as much, snuggling into his arms. It gave something of a yawn, in which a few puffs of mist came out its mouth, and closed its eyes and seemed to be resting. It was funny, because the mistmaker breathed heavily, and each time it exhaled, mist came streaming out its nostrils.  
  
"Well, I'll be," Hagrid said in amazement, "I think it likes yeh, Malfoy."  
  
That was confirmed, because when Malfoy handed it to Blaise Zabini, the mistmaker started shrieking relentlessly, much like the restricted book Harry had opened in his first year, and the mistmaker didn't stop until it was back into Malfoy's arms.  
  
When class ended and Harry and Ron and Hermione were walking back up to the castle, Ron commented, "What did Malfoy do to the poor thing, curse it to like him?"  
  
"Oh, stop," Hermione said, not meaning to sound like she was defending Malfoy, but that's how Ron took it.  
  
He looked at her strangely and suspiciously. "Hermione, that's the third time you've stopped me from saying something about that slimeball. What's the matter with you?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean -- I mean --" He looked positively flustered. "I mean, ever since you had to stay after Potions to clean up that mess *he* made, you two have been acting like best buddies or something--"  
  
"We have not!" she interjected quickly, but Ron went on.  
  
"I want to know what happened in that dungeon after everyone left!" he shouted. "What, are you and Malfoy a couple now?!" He was yelling so loudly that everyone outside overheard, including Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy himself.  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed into thin, little slits, and her breathing was shallow and uneven. "How dare you say that! What is with you, anyway? You get angry and suspicious and jealous any time I say so much as 'hello' to another boy!"  
  
"You think I'm jealous, do you?" He glared at her.  
  
"Yes! Yes, I think you're being an illogical git blinded by your own stupidity! Ronald Weasley, use your brain! This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about!" She made an impatient snorting noise, too angry to speak. "You are so immature!" And then she turned around and stamped off back to Hagrid's hut.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron called weakly after her, ready to run off.  
  
Harry held out his arm to stop him. "Let her go, Ron. She needs time to breathe and clear her head. Some conflicts are best resolved by diffusing them -- waiting a while before trying again to reach a solution."  
  
(A/N: Oooh dang, that's pure mediatior training right there...)  
  
Ron nodded. "I don't know why I act all mad like that. She's right, as usual. It's not as if she'd suddenly fall in love with Malfoy from a class project."  
  
"Yeah, that's about as likely as me getting into a love triangle with Pansy and Crabbe," Harry pointed out.  
  
(A/N again: Hmmm, maybe that's not such a bad idea... J/K, that's gross!!!)  
  
"Yeah... Blimey, I've got to learn to control myself about these things. I just feel this big-brotherly overprotection thing..."  
  
But Harry knew that Ron didn't get involved with Ginny's love interests, and that it was something a whole lot different than a big-brotherly sense.  
  
***  
  
Hermione reached Hagrid's hut, calling out, "Hagrid! I've got to talk to you about Ron -- he's being a jealousy-crazed maniac again; this time it was Malfoy -- can you believe it? -- *Malfoy!* -- and I--" She paused to see not Hagrid, but Draco standing outside the hut.  
  
He was holding the mistmaker, having a fun time spinning and twirling around, grinning and laughing as the mistmaker cooed and squealed like a baby. He stopped abruptly, upon hearing Hermione's shouts, but it was too late. She had already seen him.  
  
Hermione was disappointed to see Malfoy there instead of Hagrid, but equally intrigued. "Um -- hello," she said awkwardly (I know, I keep overusing that word, but for some reason, Microsoft Word isn't working and I don't have a thesaurus now).  
  
His face was beet red, and for once, it wasn't at all from anger. "H-hi, Hermione," he stammered. "I take it you saw--"  
  
"Yes," she answered. "And you heard--"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"How about we keep these things to ourselves, huh? Even though all the Slytherin and Gryffindor sixth-years overheard my entire argument..."  
  
He just nodded again, with an understanding (or lack of anything to say), "Hmm."  
  
"I'm -- I'm sorry about what I said about you. I had no idea you were here -- and still, I had absolutely no right--"  
  
Draco cut her off. "Remember, Hermione, it's only a temporary truce, we don't have to be so nice about it--"  
  
She wasn't listening. "But -- but you just called me Hermione!"  
  
He was caught off-guard. "What?"  
  
"Two times, in fact -- the first when you said hi to me, but I didn't notice it then..." she went on thoughtfully.  
  
"I didn't even realize I had said it. Are you sure it wasn't Granger, Gangly, even? Muggle, Mudblood--?"  
  
"I'm sure!" she said. "What I want to know is why--"  
  
He was as clueless as she was. "I don't know. It just...slipped out..."  
  
"Things are changing, Malfoy. I'm not so sure I like it..."  
  
"Malfoy, Hermione, is that you? I heard voices..." Hagrid's huge figure came into view, Fang trotting along by his side. "Wha' are yeh doin' here, Hermione?"  
  
She paused. "I -- I was just leaving, Hagrid. Great lesson today, by the way..." And she was off.  
  
Draco cleared his throat. "Uh -- me too. Er, thanks for letting me play with the mistmaker," he said nervously, shoving the creature into Hagrid's arms. Then he ran after Hermione.  
  
Hagrid shook his great, hairy head. "Ne'er seen anythin' like that..." He gave one last glance at Draco and Hermione before disappearing into his hut.  
  
Draco caught up with Hermione. "Herm--I mean, Granger," he panted. "What -- what was all that back there--?"  
  
"I don't know, but -- but I've really got to go, I'm sorry--" And she broke into a run, heading for the castle.  
  
Draco sighed. What was going on? Like Hermione had said, things were changing...and he wasn't so sure he liked them either. 


End file.
